Slowly, I move one finger down and push it inside me. Nash’s eyes drop to my hand again. I pull my finger out and massage my clitoris with it. I jerk against the contact. I’m so ready for him, if he doesn’t hurry, I’ll finish before we even get started.
Desperation spurs me on. My fingers move in a mindless rhythm that pleases my body as my other hand finds my tight nipple again. The stimulation coupled with his eyes on me is sensory overload. I moan, unable to help myself. I see the muscle in his jaw tic as he grits his teeth. That’s when I realize that, in playing his little game, the victor has become the victim. He’s torturing himself.
I grow bolder. I let my legs fall farther apart and I rub myself, my body writhing under my touch and his watchful stare. I slip another finger in alongside the first and I move them together, in and out.
Nash’s lips part the tiniest bit and I hear his breath huffing between them. He’s just as excited as I am. That knowledge sends an electric pang of desire zipping through my body to land right beneath my moving fingers.
With lightning speed, Nash moves forward and grabs my wrist, his fingers winding around it like bands of steel, stopping my movement. His eyes never leave mine as he tugs my fingers out of my body and raises my hand to his mouth. He rubs my fingertips back and forth across his bottom lip, leaving a streak of moisture there. I catch my breath when his tongue sneaks out to taste it. “God, you taste good,” he groans before he sucks my fingers into his mouth.
I feel the slick heat of his tongue rasping along my sensitive fingertips as he licks them. I feel the sensation all the way down to my core. I gasp in delicious surprise when I feel his teeth nip my fingertip. The muscles between my legs clench in wanton anticipation.
“That just makes me want more,” he whispers. “And something tells me you want me to take more.” As he speaks, he moves to put one knee on the bed, insinuating his hips between my legs. Still holding my wrist, I feel his free hand work its way down the inside of my thigh to the unbearable heat at my center.
He pushes one long finger inside me, stealing my breath. He moves it farther into me as he thrusts his hips forward. “Unzip my pants,” he commands gruffly, finally releasing my wrist. He moves another finger inside me, crooking them both as he pulls them out. “Right now.” My comprehension is slow, his words barely penetrating the sensual web that his fingers are weaving over me.
Bending slightly at my waist, I reach for his zipper. The button is already undone and I can feel his hardness straining against the backs of my fingers as I pull the little gold tongue down.
The material parts to reveal his long, thick shaft. Without even thinking, I reach inside and wrap my fingers around it—soft skin over warm steel. I hear the hiss of air through his teeth just before he pushes a third finger inside me. Hard and deep, he penetrates me as I squeeze his length.
“I don’t have a condom, but I’m clean. I assume you’re . . . protected?”
I can only manage a nod as my thumb slides over the moistened tip of him and he arches into my hand.
He groans. “You’re gonna come for me, come like you’ve never come before. Then I’m gonna lick you until you come again. With my tongue inside you.”
Removing his fingers from me, he widens his stance as he slides both hands under my hips and lifts them off the bed. Guiding his thick head to my entrance, he looks up to meet my eyes just before he pulls me roughly toward him, my body sliding wetly over his. With my legs wrapped around his waist and my back arched sharply off the bed, he plunges into me over and over again until I feel the dam break.
I cry out, the pleasure more intense than anything I could ever have imagined. It completely overwhelms me, captivates me, transports me. I’m in a world where only Nash and I exist, only what lies between us. Only the passion that we share.
Nash slows his rhythm to a deep grinding, the friction accentuating each wave of my orgasm. Before the spasms of my pleasure subside, he moves me back up onto the bed until my hips are once more supported by the mattress. He eases out of me and drops to his knees, hooking my legs over his shoulders and burying his face in the warm, pulsing flesh there.
My body jerks at the first touch of his hot tongue. Gently, he licks at my swollen flesh until my orgasm has nearly died, and then he becomes more aggressive.
Reaching around my leg, resting his arm on my stomach, he parts my folds with his fingers and draws the rigid nub at the top of my crease into his mouth, sucking on it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Once more, I feel the tension escalate. I fist one hand in the duvet and curl the fingers of my other hand in his long hair, holding hold him to me.
“Ohmigod, Nash. That feels so good.”
“Let me have it, baby. One more time. Let me taste it all.”
The vibrations of his words stimulate me even further as he moves the fingers of his other hand to my core, thrusting one into me, pushing me closer to the edge.
Putting his hands behind my knees, Nash rolls my hips up, toward my head, pushing my legs as far apart as they’ll go, opening me completely to him and his wicked mouth. In and out he moves his fingers as he licks and flicks with his tongue, faster and faster.
I melt into my second orgasm in slow, breathtaking waves. I feel my body squeeze his fingers. “Oh yeah, that’s it. Come for me.” Spreading me wide, Nash rubs my clitoris with his thumb as he thrusts his tongue inside me, lapping up every drop of moisture my body spills for him, for his touch. Just the thought of what he’s doing, of him wanting to taste me like this, is enough to renew the spasms of my climax.
When my body is limp and nearly numb from pleasure, Nash crawls up onto the bed, between my legs. From between the slits of my eyelids, I see him guide his engorged head to my entrance. And then he’s inside me and I can’t breathe again.
He stretches me so tight, he pauses to let me adjust before he withdraws and plunges into me. Wetly, he pulls out and thrusts again.
His lips find mine and he groans into my mouth. I swallow it along with my own sounds of abandon. I taste the salty sweetness of my body on his tongue. It sends a thrill through me that this was what he so wanted from me—my essence, the evidence of my pleasure.
His lips are rough on mine. Hungry. His hands are callused on my br**sts. Urgent. His body drives deep inside me. Desperate.
My entire world is on fire. I can’t tell if I’m nearing my third orgasm or if he’s just managed to rekindle the embers of the last one, but I feel my body clutching at his, milking it, begging for its release.